


til i’m red underneath,

by alunbalanced



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, M/M, male robin - Freeform, post Grima reveal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 22:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17671385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alunbalanced/pseuds/alunbalanced
Summary: in my defense i was left unsupervised with sentence prompts and ship playlists,





	1. robin

**Author's Note:**

> this is the baby of a sentence prompt but that sentence isn’t gonna show up for a few chapters so i won’t spoil it here  
> the robin used in this fic belongs to a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> grappling with anxieties over newly discovered information, robin comes to a tentative conclusion.

minutes passed.

hours.

a day, then two, three, but he still could hear the damning proclamation in his ears, ringing loud and true. restful sleep had evaded him since then.

_’have you truly forgotten?’_

his own internal monologue took on the mocking tone of his doppelgänger as it mirrored the words his... father had told him.

_’you are of my flesh, but sacred blood... join your strength to the fell dragon!’_

without awareness of his own movements, his hands moved up to cradle his head, fingers threading through his hair and gripping tightly. he growled, words slipping out between clenched teeth.

“shut up... wrong. you're wrong...!”

his eyes squeezed shut, a few tears leaking out of the corners.

“you're wrong...”

he answered himself in his head, doubt threading between his words.

_'... am i though...?’_

the odd double timbre of the voice that sounded like his, but absolutely wasn't, faded, but it had done its work.

used to working through any number of potential strategies, robin’s mind set to whirling through what this could mean. what it meant for the shepherds and the cause they fought for. what it meant for chrom, his closest friend, what it meant... what it meant for fred.

_frederick._

his heart climbed all the way up to his throat to sit on his windpipe as he thought of brown eyes, crinkled at the corners in a rare smile that he saw more with each passing day. and then he saw those eyes turn cold and distrustful, as they had been so many months ago.

he felt as though all his breath left him in one swift rush, taking with it a future of happiness.

he couldn't breathe.

throat drier than the shifting sands of plegia, he tried to swallow his heart back down.

the tears came again, and he didn't bother trying to hold them back this time.

this was the end, it had to be the end, and as he lay back in his bedroll and stared at the ceiling of his tent, sleeplessness his only company, he wondered how he hadn't seen it coming.


	2. frederick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> frederick notices robin’s flagging spirits

frederick frowned mightily as he strode between the rank and file of soldiers who had shown up for his morning training session.

reaching in to correct a grip, his eyes slid to the left, landing on the tactician whose situation left him troubled. what took him by surprise was that he wasn't watching robin with a calculating gaze, knowing the connection that had been revealed between the grimleal and him and planning contingencies should the worst overtake them; instead, concern welled in his chest for how listless and exhausted the man appeared.

his smiles were wan, and the circles beneath his eyes had darkened, and frederick was deeply concerned.

a few days had passed since the shocking revelation, and robin had drawn back from everyone in the camp.

 _’from me,’_ frederick heard his mind finish the sentence differently, and his brow furrowed.

the soldier closest to him flinched slightly and swiftly straightened his posture, hoping to avoid catching the consequences of whatever had caused the fierce expression on the lieutenant’s face.

forcing his gaze back to his subordinates, he carefully folded his hands behind his back, eyes narrow and exacting as he continued to guide them through the remainder of the exercises.

“that will do for today. you are dismissed — go put up your training weapons and wash up before the afternoon meal. those assigned to kp should finish quickly and report to the mess staff for their duties.”

with his duty thus discharged, he let his eyes wander back to where he had spotted robin earlier, and found himself sorely disappointed that robin had seemingly vanished.

the frown returned as he wondered where robin could have gotten to — they normally would join up and walk together to the mess tent for lunch, but robin had taken meals in his tent for the last few days.

a deep sigh left him and he shook his head once more.

robin had been understandably jarred by what they had learned. perhaps he simply needed some time by himself to process it, though frederick couldn't help hoping that the other man would seek him out once he had. he missed the company and easy rapport they had achieved after long exposure and the hard-earned mutual respect and affection they now shared.

he headed to lunch, silently hoping robin might join him, and found himself disappointed when he finished his rations with no sign of his friend.


	3. robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lying to yourself is self-care

he wasn't avoiding anyone, he sternly told himself.

the excuses he made for himself were flimsy, at best.

he had drawn several worried looks from the other shepherds, from chrom, especially.

damn the man. he could never hide anything from the prince-exalt.

but he wasn't avoiding anyone. avoiding people was something people did when they were afraid of facing an ugly truth, and he wasn't doing that.

he fully understood that he was of grima’s bloodline. it was obvious when one considered the brand on the back of his hand, which he had examined in closer detail the other afternoon. his books informed him it was a symbol of the fell dragon, and was used by his followers to denote their belief, much in the way that naga’s followers paid heed to the brand of the exalt, a mark of her blessing to rule.

and he also understood that, being of grima’s bloodline, associating too closely with others might not end well.

he wasn't blind — and his newly earned secret wasn’t such a huge secret anymore. the masses still weren't aware, but the rest of the shepherds had been told as soon as it was safe and convenient to do so. chrom wasn't the type of person to operate with secrets rolling around his feet, and robin didn't feel comfortable hiding it, either, though it scared him witless to think they might see him differently.

and they did. some of them, at least — the ones he didn't know as well. the ones who only knew him as a guiding hand during battle and someone to share a table with during dinner.

the furtive glances and whispers of some of them followed him as if they were manacled to his ankles.

he felt so heavy.

but he wasn't avoiding anyone, or at least not on purpose.

he had entirely valid reasons to leave the war council tent after meetings whenever he saw fred begin to drift in his direction.

plenty of work to do, things to keep him busy, never minding the small voice that told him he was rationalizing to prevent the panic that had settled in comfortably just beneath his sternum and was constantly on the verge of rising up to choke him.

he was not avoiding frederick.

and he told himself he didn't notice the disappointment in the frown whenever he turned away, or the confusion in those brown eyes that tugged at his heartstrings. he told himself that he couldn't hear frederick call his name from across the tent when he stopped by the mess tent to grab his breakfast — he had stopped eating with everyone else, which was just as well.

better to create a little distance — getting too close to the other man would only hurt him in the end. could only hurt him, and that was something robin dreaded even to consider.

better to stay away, even as his heart ached to be close, closer still.


	4. frederick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> frederick runs into an issue

robin was avoiding him.

despite chrom’s assurances, which he hadn't asked for but appreciated nonetheless, there wasn't any other readily available explanation for why the tactician pulled a disappearing act whenever he spotted frederick in the vicinity.

he couldn't lie to himself — it hurt. he wasn't sure what he had done to warrant such a reaction, and he had lost sleep trying fruitlessly to come up with a logical explanation, except... he couldn't.

it didn't make sense to him, and so he wondered.

he debated the merit of tracking robin down and demanding an explanation, but he didn't want to frighten his friend by subjecting him to a line of question. that didn't stop those questions from rising up in his mind, however, and circling around endlessly like buzzards preying on his doubts.

_‘perhaps i was overly dismissive of his concerns with the battle plans we came up with the previous week...’_

so preoccupied with his line of consideration that he nearly ran over the one person who could have assuaged his concerns.

blinking rapidly, he fixed his gaze on an equally distracted robin, who had had his nose buried in his notebook and now seemed to be somewhat dazed from the collision.

vaguely, he noticed that he had reached out involuntarily to grasp one of robin’s shoulders to help keep him steady, and his fingers flexed without his permission.

“robin.”

did he sound out of breath? he didn't recall feeling so just moments ago.

realizing precisely who it was he had run into, robin quickly turned bright red, and then his dark skin grew chalky and pale, his eyes darting away, looking at this, at that, at anything but the knight in front of him.

“a-ah. oh, frederick, i just... my apologies. i... i should have paid more attention to where i was going, i‘ll just be... going...”

he felt the shoulder beneath his hand start to duck out, and he blurted out the question that had been eating away at him for days now.

”are you angry with me?”

the words froze both of them, robin from shock and frederick from embarrassment, his cheeks heating up as he swallowed nervously. he quickly lifted the hand from robin’s shoulder, not wishing him to feel trapped, but his pleading gaze seemed to transfix the other man anyways.

“i have been... concerned that i did something to offend you, or... i would be better able to make amends if you would tell me where i erred, what i have... what i've done wrong. i...”

_’i've missed you. my arms feel empty in the evenings since you've stopped joining me in my tent during the evenings when it's cold and hard to sleep. mealtimes seem too quiet without your laughter.’_

all the reasons jumbled together in a frenzy inside his head until he could no longer decipher them.

steadily, his cheeks grew even redder, and he ducked his head slightly, huffing out a breath in his frustration.

“i... i'm sorry. i should also have been paying more attention to where i was going, i was just... distracted, and worried.”

he watched the emotions roll across robin's face before they were hastily covered up with a neutral expression, or as neutral as he'd ever seen robin wear.

“no. no, you've done nothing wrong. i've had a lot on my plate and still do, so if you'll excuse me —“

neatly ducking around the taller knight, robin seemed to pay no heed to the way frederick’s face twisted in confused pain, looking as though he'd taken an unexpected blow.

how long frederick stood there, watching the point where robin had turned the corner, was beyond him.


	5. robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> robin’s doubts strike in a moment of weakened resolve.

weariness soaked through his skin and sunk deeply into his bones. he was tired down to his marrow, but he stubbornly fought sleep, fear keeping his eyes open.

unwillingly, he recalled the stricken look fred had given him in response to his cold address earlier in the day and his heart panged in desperation.

the struggle he felt as he had walked away without a backward glance had shaken him, and his resolve to keep his distance faltered.

_’such a shame. such a shame, to keep hurting such a good man. such a good friend. he's worried about you. he misses you.’_

he stilled as ice flooded his veins, shaking the warm drowsiness that had started to surround him despite his efforts to stay awake.

_’and you treat him so coldly... surely it couldn't hurt to be kinder, sweeter with him, while this farce lasts...’_

the double tindre’d voice slunk in like an unwelcome alley cat, shedding shame and doubt instead of fur, and crawled up to sit on his chest like the heaviness of guilt.

“go away,” he whispered into the flickering dark, the wick of his lantern burnt low with use and casting shadows.

he had to be imagining the sensation of claws flexing, digging into his shirt, his skin, as the voice purred.

_’oh, but i can't leave. not until you give in, and then it won't matter if i'm here or there. it's only a matter of time, you know. and you'll betray them, whether you like it or not. you are the sword that will swing at unprotected backs. you are the lightning in a hand held by a friend. and they'll hate you for it. you know it's true, just like you know there is no escape.’_

in the last sentence, the claws that had been digging in tore deeper still, through his muscle and bone to where he might have held a soul, and he wrenched himself back to wakefulness with a muffled sob, jackknifing into a sitting position before falling back again. his arm flung to the side, searching blindly and nearly knocking his lantern over, the flame sputtering in protest.

robin jammed a fist against his mouth to stay quiet as his entire body was wracked with shudders, curling up on his side tightly with an arm around his middle, as if it might be the only thing holding him back from flying apart.

slowly, the searching hand stopped moving, resting against the empty bedroll. cold, no warmth left from a familiar body, and any lingering scent of leather polish and burnt firewood long since washed away.

fat teardrops rolled down the side of his face, over the bridge of his nose, to plop down against a pillow that offered no simple words of comfort.

his heart ached as his eyes slid shut again, regret bitter against the back of his tongue.


	6. frederick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chrom, though clueless, raises a point of view frederick hadn’t fully considered. frederick takes it and runs.

“frederick, you're going to wear a path in the dirt.”

there were equal amounts of amusement and concern in chrom’s voice as he addressed his beleaguered lieutenant who had been pacing as he cleaned the commander’s tent. chrom’s eyes lifted from the page as frederick paused, briefly, before continuing what he was doing anyways.

“... is this about robin? you've been awfully quiet about him recently. i thought the two of you were getting on better recently.”

frederick’s hand and the dusting cloth in it jerked back from the surface of a travel chest as if it were an open flame, and his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth hurt.

chrom, watching this, narrowed his eyes.

“... frederick, i thought you were past your attitude towards him. he's proven time and again that he's a trustworthy ally, and a good friend. surely you aren't still hung up over how he joined us?”

the prince stilled as another thought occurred to him.

“oh... oh, frederick, i hope you're not holding the fact that his father is... that robin is... frederick, he didn't choose that. and he's never shown any sign of betraying anyone, not once, not even when all he knew was our names.”

frederick, halfway through polishing a pair of boots, froze.

chrom’s words rang in his ears like a tolling bell.

swallowing heavily, his eyes dropped to the leather of the boot, which he had already polished that morning to a glossy sheen. had he been so blind? of course robin would take that knowledge and use it to... what, exactly?

 _’to distance himself in case it turned out to be true,’_ he thought grimly, setting the boot down next to its match neatly and standing.

he had to figure some things out.

“if you'll pardon me, milord, i believe i've neglected some other responsibilities. i will be back with your dinner, unless you wish to take it in the mess tent as usual...?”

his liege watched him worriedly for another few minutes, each second that ticked by bearing down on frederick who was suddenly nearly frantic, or as close to frantic as he could be, to figure out how to convince robin against his current course of action — and he nodded slowly.

“... i'll eat with the soldiers tonight, frederick. don't trouble yourself with my meal — you should take the night to yourself. you've been running yourself ragged since we left plegia.”

with a curt bow, frederick quickly left the tent, his long stride carrying him in the direction of robin’s tent, where he spent most afternoons devising new possible strategies using a board and several small figurines that resembled game pieces.

he felt reckless, charging in without a plan of attack, but this couldn't continue as it had any longer — his heart couldn’t take it.


	7. robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> robin is ambushed.

he heard the footsteps before anything else. they were loud and hurried, but he didn't think anything of it as he scribbled another note before pinching his nose with his thumb, a headache pounding against his skull from the inside.

it was when he heard the rustle of fabric too close to be anywhere but from his own tent that he lifted overtired eyes from the paper in front of him and promptly stopped breathing.

frederick stood at the entrance of his tent, his shoulders wide enough to more than fill the width of it. he looked almost desperate, and robin’s overworked mind immediately jumped to conclusions.

he was halfway out of his seat as words tumbled out of his lips.

”is it chrom? the risen? have risen attacked the camp? frederick?”

fear filled him as frederick strode forward, his steps full of purpose as he reached out to grasp robin’s arm gently. he found himself pulled into the familiar circle of frederick’s arms, and half of him instinctively relaxed into it before he caught himself.

he tried to pull away, but frederick’s grip remained unyielding.

“frederick... frederick, let me go. this is... this is inappropriate. let go.”

he kept his words tight, exercising what control he had to keep any errant emotions at bay, but as he tilted his head back to glare up at frederick, he was caught in an unfathomably deep gaze instead.

he forgot to breathe.

frederick took the opportunity to speak, and his words, though not rushed, seemed less refined than normal.

 _‘he didn’t plan this,’_ was the only thought in robin’s head, and he listened numbly as frederick talked.

“you have been avoiding me, and distancing yourself from everyone in camp, ever since we learned where you came from. it cannot be borne any longer, this... this pulling away. you are a true and loyal friend, and anyone who would think otherwise is a fool. who you are is not where you're from. everyone knows this.”

frederick paused for breath, licking his lips before he continued.

”... that is, everyone but you. if you care for me, us, at all, you will cease this pointless behavior, the avoidance — it does no one any good. we have all been worried for how you've been acting, and you're...”

frederick’s eyes traced robin’s features, noting the lines drawn where none had been before.

“you are not sleeping. or if you are, not well. please, i am begging you, permit me to help.”

he was already shaking his head before frederick stubbornly continued.

“robin, if you care for me...” he paused again, pain twisting his mouth before he took and deep breath and plunged on.

“if you cared for me, even for a short while... i will get down on my knees to beg you, if you wish it, but please, _please_ , let me help you, as you once did.”

one of frederick’s hands had lifted to delicately cup robin’s cheek and he staunchly resisted the urge to lean into the comforting touch. he shook his head mutely again, pushing at frederick’s arms until he was finally released and backing away.

steeling himself, he looked back up at frederick’s face, reading the apprehension, the worry in the way he held himself, the arms still half-raised to embrace him.

that was for him.

bitterly, a thought crossed his mind. _’i don't deserve it.’_

out loud, he took a deep breath and blew it out quickly. his voice was even, almost cold, as he spoke.

“i don't have time for this. i have work to do. goodbye, frederick.”

he left the other man behind in his tent, but not quickly enough to miss the despair that filled frederick’s face.


	8. frederick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> despair engulfs frederick. food does not help.

he stared into his bowl of stew as if it would give him the answer to all the questions in the universe.

frederick still shook from the earlier confrontation with robin, if one could call it that. he wondered blankly if anything he had said had gotten through to robin, but how could it with such insurmountable walls? the tactician’s eyes had been frozen amber, piercing him through, though he had thought maybe that robin had leant into his embrace, his touch. perhaps he had been mistaken.

he should probably have spoken to someone else before he went, someone who had a better grasp of words and expressing things than he had. but the desperation that gripped him by the heart was so complete that all rational thought had fled his mind after he left chrom’s tent and raced to robin’s.

the knight ate the food in front of him mechanically, and around him he distantly registered the worried looks being exchanged between the other shepherds. he couldn't bring himself to care, even as chrom started to open his mouth, staring hard at his lieutenant.

not about to give anyone a chance to question him, or air any issues he might be having with a certain absent tactician, he rose with his empty bowl and excused himself politely. he retreated to the area where dirty dishes sat waiting to be washed and put away, adding his own to the stack and exiting quickly.

once out of the mess tent, however, he found himself at a loss. he'd be no good on patrol, since he wasn't currently able to focus on anything... perhaps... well, perhaps he could simply retire to his tent for the evening and pray naga granted him merciful sleep to help quell his rising anxiety.


End file.
